Raining Again
by artemis-nz
Summary: Shuichi comes to a few conclusions of his own about his life. Yuki/Shuichi.


It had just stopped raining when Shuichi got back to the apartment.

Inhaling, the vocalist caught a last whiff of the moisture on fresh earth before it was overtaken by the car fumes and cheap takeaway meals. But it always smelt like that to him in a city, no matter where it was.

So he stood there for a moment, trying to make the freshness last. There was rain in his hair. It was trickling down his neck uncomfortably, but he didn't want to get rid of it just yet – it was the lingering end to the outside; one that he hardly ever saw for too long before working or simply living at home. Shuichi loved the city, with its bright lights and promises of excitement and adventure, but whenever he got the chance to go outside, he treasured it.

Which was ironic, since the only reason he had been outside was because he had been ordered to, by a very tense, very pissed off Yuki Eiri. Shuichi didn't mind too much. Sure, he had begged and pleaded and even shed a few tears, but in the end he knew it was normal routine, even if the writer did tell him to never set foot in the apartment again. Ever.

Shuichi went back in anyway, since he knew that was what Yuki wanted, but was only too annoyed and too cold to admit it. The glass from the kitchen floor had been cleared up. Shuichi had offered to do it himself, but Yuki was adamant about the singer leaving. So he had left, head down and sniffling quietly to himself. Not because he was so sad about having to leave, but because his cooking was ruined. Yuki would have said it had been ruined even if it hadn't been splattered on the kitchen floor, but Shuichi could still smell it now in the air, and his stomach rumbled.

"Yuki?"

His voice was kept softer than usual. He could hear the clicking of keys in the next room, and knew that Yuki could hear him. He always did, even if he pretended not to. So even if Shuichi yelled at the top of his lungs, Yuki would still pretend he hadn't heard. He always did.

"I'm back."

Yuki's back was turned, and he gave no sign of hearing. Shuichi came up an put his arms around Yuki's neck. That got a reaction.

"Baka! You're wet – keep away from the computer."

He didn't sound angry anymore. The irritation was there, but there was no real anger in his voice. Usually there never really was.

"I'm hungry."

"Should've thought of that before you dropped the plate."

"I didn't do it on _purpose_."

The whine was back in Shuichi's voice. He half expected Yuki to snap at him, maybe even tell him to go back outside.

But he didn't. Instead, he got up from the chair, making his way out to the kitchen and determinedly not looking at Shuichi on the way. His lover trailed behind, and stood by while Yuki dialled something on the phone. It didn't occur to him to be offended that Yuki knew the number by memory.

A few muttered sentences later, and Shuichi found himself miraculously deposited on the couch, with Yuki beside him.

"Pizza's coming."

"I know."

The silence that stretched between them was not an uncomfortable one, because Shuichi, though in himself being naturally noisy and hyperactive, was not ignorant of the fact that not all silences needed to be filled. So he relaxed, leaning against Yuki, and the blonde did not push him away. The cigarette was between his fingers, but Yuki did not light it. He put it down after a while, and sighed. Shuichi knew he wouldn't apologise, but that was okay, because he wasn't expected to.

"Let's watch some TV."

The pizza came while Shuichi was flicking channels, and giggling when Yuki was at the door at the funny sentences the people on TV made up when switched over.

"_And the prime minister-"_ The news.

"_-Swore to keep the secret of his past-"_ A corny soap opera.

"_-Away from the gigantic beasts-"_ A nature show.

"_-Of Ancient Egypt-"_ A historical documentary.

Yuki might have had a smirk on his face when he came back, but when Shuichi looked again he wondered if it had been only his imagination. The smell from the pizza made his stomach growl again, loudly. Yuki's eyebrow rose.

"Hungry, I see. Why, when you've done no work today to speak of..."

Shuichi wouldn't have replied, even if his mouth hadn't been full of dripping cheesy pizza. Yuki didn't mean anything by it – he rarely did.

The discarded box lay on the coffee table afterwards, still smelling potently of cheese and slightly burnt pizza base. The TV was still on, turned down so that Shuichi decided Yuki wasn't really watching at all, and only staring blankly at the flashing screen. He made no objections when Shuichi turned it off, nor when Shuichi burrowed his head into the crook of Yuki's arm.

"Its raining again", he said, voice muffled.

"So?"

"I like the rain."

The smell somehow overpowered the car fumes and cheap takeaways for a minute, even with Shuichi's nose buried in the folds of Yuki's shirt, white and crinkled.

"Love you."

Still Yuki was silent, but Shuichi didn't care, because Yuki was there with him - letting him burrow into his shirt and eat pizza and go for long walks without telling him where he was going and even letting him smash plates in the kitchen after burning the cooking. And as Shuichi half-lay there, hearing and feeling the sound of Yuki's heartbeat under his fingers, he knew it was all the answer he needed.


End file.
